Last Living Souls
by morethanjustausername
Summary: In a post-apocalyptic world, we may very well be the last living souls. Zombie AU.
1. Get a Gun

**Hey, I am still alive! Sorry for not updating for so long! I am at my grandparent's house, and they have an extremely unreliable internet connection. So, I am posting this story to remind you guys I am still, in fact, alive. Also, check my Deviantart within the next little bit, I have a few pictures I'm going to upload!  
**

**I need at least 7 reviews to continue this, so don't just read it then completely ignore me. That's mean. ',:D**

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_-Prolouge-_

_At first, they were rumors, just little bits of an idea turned about and molded into something almost believable. Sure, people were paranoid right from the start, anxious over such frivolous little ideas. They clambered and prepared, warned others and started up little organizations and groups through social media. Social media was a lifeline at the time, the only way to learn, the only way to communicate, the only way to live. Through this, the odd little groups grew, their participants feeding off each other's hysteria. The rest of society deemed sane in any comparison to the odd little members in their odd little groups- laughed the threat off. It was just a crazy idea from a book, a story originating from a far away land, a joke. Only a joke._

_In an almost tragic twist of fate and irony, the prepared ones were the first ones to go. They snapped, broke under the pressure of the fate they predicted. They had everything ready, which set them apart from the others, the ones who had previously laughed at them and shunned their frantic worryings. With this new found sense of power, the prepared ones became cocky, holding their fortune just out of reach of the billions of others, dangling their luck in front of them in the same sick, twisted way an angler fish would dangle their eerie light in front of unsuspecting prey._

_At first the prepared had devoted time, energy and supplies to ensure better defense against the rumors, offering their protection only to those deemed worthy. Men, women and children were denied the chance to survive merely because they had not followed a crazy idea on a whim. The prepared thought very well of themselves, easily assuming they were bulletproof in a sense. They discarded their defenses, opting to show their importance by facing the problem with only their pride and ego. The rumors quickly won, shadowing the world in the cold fog of dense uncertainty and fear._

_Rumors may not be a fitting analogy for the newly discovered horrors. The rumors were not mere bits of ideas molded and turned, not little stories or jokes. No, they were real, so real they seemed almost unbelievable at first. No, they were not rumors, now they were a solid, tangible fact. They were beings representing both life and death, forever caught in a vicious cycle of pain and torture. Some of them were once prepared, many not. Rest assured that all of them were human at one point, all of them breathed and all of them lived. Nobody really knew if they should be considered dead or alive. They were similar to the basic principles of math, most like the rule stating that if a positive and a negative were to meet, the negative would win. This of course was assuming the negative represented death, and the positive life._

_People were terrified of the rumors, more so now then at first, because at first, that's all they were. Rumors. Things to be considered made up, or the typical Monica and Billy stories. Things are only concepts or theory's until they have a name. Right? When the truth becomes to terrifying to hide, it must spill forth and reveal itself, for the rumors now had a name._

_They were the undead creatures of myth and lore. They feasted on the flesh and bones of the living. There were so many things they could have been, but they were quite clearly only one possible thing._

_They were zombies._

* * *

"Look at all of the zombies over there! There must be at least a hundred of them!" Noodle reported excitedly.

"Yeah," I said "They must 'ave trapped a bunch of survivors in there, or at least a really fat guy." I answered sarcastically, glaring subtly at Russel.

"Well we have to go then! If we can help just one person, then-"

"Then what? They're probably already dead." I said darkly.

As if to contradict my last statement, a shout loud enough to be heard from the battle-Geep sounded, and the massive hoard of the undead seemed to become more desperate to break into the dilapidated establishment. It seemed the door was locked, leaving the undead to ram their decaying bodies uselessly into the glass doors, mindlessly desperate to get at the poor souls trapped inside.

Prompted by another shrill shout, Noodle, Russel and I jumped jumped out of the Geep and carefully maneuvered to the back of the store to the back of the store, a place where the zombies had apparently not considered going. Russel bodychecked the heavy wood door, and Noodle charged in with her gun ready, aiming it around at any potential intruders. Finding none, we all rushed inside. I closed the splintered door.

The room we had burst into was just a messy storage room, and from the items present, I could only assume we were in some sort of music shop, more specifically one that sold instruments.

An odd growling sound accompanied by the tell-tale sound of plastic snapping was audible in the next room, clearly resulting from the struggles of the group inside. We quietly snuck up to the door connecting the two rooms. After a silent count to three, we rushed in.

At first, all I could really see were just a few zombies (one of them almost as fat as Russ) mobbed around someone, and that someone beating them off with a keyboard. The mystery person could not have been older than fifteen, and looked as if he had gone several months without food or water. His skin as about the color of tracing paper, and his wild hair was a sort of muddy red color, most likely stained with his own blood. The most odd feature about him must have been his physique, aside from the anorexic quality he possessed.

His legs were the longest I had ever seen on any person, which looked incredibly awkward on him, considering he was at least a half-foot shorter than me, maybe more.

With a determined shout, he bashed another zombie over the head with his keyboard, effectively destroying it in the process. He stared blankly at the now-useless weapon before dropping it on the ground. The group of zombies that were previously surrounding him had kept their distance, but, now that he was unarmed, moved in for the kill.

"Get away from him, you creeps!" Noodle shouted at the previously deceased.

Most of the aforementioned 'creeps' looked at us, their focus directed from the kid only comparable to a toothpick, to Russel, who could be generously compared to a steroid-juiced giant turkey. Only the fat zombie remained, still fixated on the youth in the corner. Even it had stopped attacking him, but did not advance towards us like the others had taken to doing.

"Noods, Russ. You take out the walkers, I'm goin' for the kid." I said quietly to my group, who nodded in understanding.

We all started moving at the same time. The zombies charged my companions, I ran at the kid, and the fat zombie grabbed him. As I said before, the kid was a toothpick and no match for the large zombie as it grabbed his arm, and certainly could not have prevented the bite that soon followed.

No, he couldn't have done anything about it, but I could have. I caught up to the zombie moments late, the irreversible damage already done.

The kid screamed in agony. In a desperate attempt at survival, he forcefully ripped his arm from the zombie's infected maw, his pale skin practically shredding. He shrieked and pressed his uninjured hand against the now-bleeding wound, and slid down the wall. Blood poured uncontrollably through the teenager's thin fingers. He brought his bleeding arm close to his chest, attempting to stop the blood that was freely flowing from the deep wound.

I aimed my gun at the fat zombie (who's nametag, I might add, said 'Uncle' Norman Spatch) and unloaded a hot bullet right between his beady eyes. He went down like a sack of potatoes, his heavy impact on the floor causing a mini-earthquake. I vaulted over him and rushed to the injured teenage bleeding out in the corner. He coughed a bit, blood dripping down his chin.

He was infected, and was sure to die soon, but for now he was alive and in unimaginable pain. I kneeled in front of him, the fabric covering my knees soaked in his blood, and fully took in his pained features.

For starters, I was wrong about his hair color. It was not actually muddy or red, but a vibrant blue, blood and dirt concealing the shocking color. Tears streaked down his pale face, and his otherwise impish features were twisted into an obvious expression of pain. I could tell he was one touch away from losing whatever cap he had on his emotions. He was tightly squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth in a half attempt to not cry out.

Let me educate you a little about zombies for a moment, yeah? Alright, in every zombie movie ever made, the time it takes for a person to transform into a zombie is different. In Dawn of the Dead, it takes three or four days, in 28 Days Later, it takes less than twenty seconds. What's up with that? Even before the incident, I was really not that into zombie movies, and I have only watched a few, but there are always so many things that are different in each one. The speed that zombies walk, how long it takes for them to change, how to kill them, how infection spreads... The list goes on.

But what's going on right now is _not_ a zombie movie. No, this is real life. Not some fruity movie where the survivors have to repopulate the earth, not some corny book about zombies falling in love, not a horror movie. While there is no actual scientific studies done on the zombie populous, there are some stone hard facts.

Number one: Zombies CAN run, just not that fast.

Number two: Zombies are very clumsy. You can push them over or trip them with little effort.

Number three: It takes AT LEAST one full minute for a person to change into a zombie. Only one person has ever lasted longer, and he was a really fat guy.

Number four: SHOOT 'EM IN THE HEAD!

Number five: Once someone is bitten, they are doomed. You can't save them by cutting off limbs of giving them medication. There is no vaccine.

There, that explains a lot now, right? Mmm... There is one more thing. How do you tell exactly when someone has turned? Their eyes, that's how. Watch their eyes. As soon as their eyes fade from whatever color they were, shoot them in the face. Zombies have white, vacant eyes, humans have colored, intelligent eyes. Big difference, yeah? The zombie virus can only be spread through biting, as the toxins are in their saliva. I mean, I guess you could contract the virus if you kissed a zombie, but who does that? Seriously. Don't be stupid.

Anyway, as per general zombie rules, I pressed the tip of my gun up to the kid's head. His eyes jerked open the moment the cold tip touched his forehead and he stared at it, or rather as much as could have seen, giving him sort of a cross-eyed appearance. Now I had the chance to watch his eyes and wait for the moment to strike. I saw his teary eyes follow the barrel of the gun to my hand, then to my face. He stared at me with wide, frightened eyes clouded with pain and confusion. His eyes, like almost everything else about him, were a bit odd.

Instead of the regular brown color that most people had, or even a blue color, his eyes were not common. No, his eyes were green, almost grey. I stared right back at him for a few moments. The only other person I had _ever_ seen that had green eyes was Noodle. Come to think of it, England has a shockingly low amount of people with green eyes.. Oh well, I will have to ponder that later..

I clicked the safety off. It had been at least thirty seconds since he was bitten, probably more, but his eyes were not getting any lighter. If anything they seemed to get darker. I heard his breath hitch, and tears that had barely been restrained before tumbled forth, gliding down his pale cheeks. He sniffled a bit, and quietly sobbed against my gun. Small bits of pity pulled at my heart, but if you tell anybody, I _will_ shoot you.

Even though it pained me to do so, I watched his eyes. I watched and waited, but they did not lighten, instead, the pupil (that little dark dot) seemed to expand. I know that that can happen to anybody, as it is a natural reaction to mood or the amount of light it is receiving, but not to this extent. The once small black dot expanded until it had covered the green colored part completely, which at that point, the kid decided to close his eyes and scream in agony.

Nice timing..

I pushed the tip of the gun harder into his forehead.

"Open yer eyes..." I mumbled, more to myself than him.

Tears now streamed freely from his closed eyes, each one seeming to take on a watery, almost black quality. What the hell was going on with this kid?! I pushed the gun against his head harder, the force making him cry out, and finally open his eyes. I almost dropped my gun in surprise, because not his eyes were not green like they had been. No, that was too normal. His eyes were not the ghostly white they should have been by now, no.

His eyes were black. Completely black. The whole thing.

At this point I had dropped my gun. What in Satan's name was going on here? The should-be zombie and I had an intense stare down. Well, not really. I stared at him, and his eyelids just seemed to droop. I couldn't actually tell where he was looking, considering he had no visible iris or pupil. The saddening crying had stopped too, and his arms had dropped limply to his sides. He was completely relaxed, in a sort of pained way.

"What's the holdup, Muds?" Russel asked irritably.

"Huh?"

"Well, you have been staring at that kid for ten minutes now. Is he dead?"

"W-what? Ten minutes?!" I asked in a shaky voice.

"Uh... yeah..?"

"He... He's not dead..."

"Then shoot him before he bites you!" Noodle interjected.

"He's not a zombie, either.."

Both Russel and Noodle stared at me, speechless. I turned back to the strange teenager slumped against the wall, and just in time, too. His eyes slid closed, and he pitched forward, almost falling to the ground. I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sight of him coming towards me, but I managed to actually catch him. Faster than I could blink, Noodle and Russel were beside me, guns pointed menacingly at the teenager propped up against my arms.

"WAIT WAIT! Don't shoot!" I all but screamed.

Noodle and Russel looked at me worriedly.

"Uhh.." Russel began "We thought he was gonna bite you!

"Did he just... up and die?" Noodle asked.

I kneeled down further and pressed my head tentatively to his chest. _'__Thump...Thump-thump...Thump-thump...'_

"N-no.. He's still alive... I think 'e just passed out.."

"How is that even possible?! He should be trying to eat our faces by now!" Noodle exploded.

"I know.." I replied "But he isn't... and his eyes.."

"What about his eyes?" Russel interrupted.

"They're not white."

"What? So he has normal eyes? So does that mean he is immune to the virus? This is just great! Think of all of the-" Noodle ranted.

"No, I don't think he's human..."

"Woah dog, whatchu' goin' on 'bout now?"

I sighed. How was I supposed to explain myself if everybody kept spewing out questions? A loud banging sound at the door stole everybody's attention.

"They're breaking down the door!" Noodle yelled.

Shoot! I quickly stood up and started running to the door, but a dull thud and a quiet groan stopped me in my tracks. I forgot about the blue-haired kid! I couldn't just leave him there, right?

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**So, here is a vote thingie..**

**Should Murdoc:**

**-Leave the not-really-kinda-mabye-a-zombie-but-somehow-not blue-haired teenage in the store and escape, only to be attacked again..**

_**Or...**_

**-Bring him back to the Geep and try to figure out what is going on with him, at risk of getting eaten..**

**You decide! I am super-excited for this fic, and right now I am really obsessed with zombies. You know how most teenagers are all obsessed over twilight and vampires and werewolves an such? Well, it's like that for me, but with zombies. Also, I dyed all of my hair purple! It looks sooooo cool! I am so happy!**


	2. Or How You Say

No, I couldn't do that. There something was... different about him, something worth looking in to. I turned back around to the bluenette slumped awkwardly on the ground. His thin form was shaking a bit, and against my better judgement I approached him again. In no time I was kneeling in front of the teen, attempting to gather him in my arms. Something about him drew me in, made me want to help him. It freaked me out a bit, considering I generally avoid doing anything that is not directly rewarding to me.

"MURDOC! What are you doing?! We have to GO!" Noodle shrieked.

I ignored her and boosted the unconscious teenage over my shoulder, becoming slightly surprised by how little he weighed. Noodle continued shrieking at me uselessly, and for good reason too. The desperate thumping and scratching on the glass door was steadily increasing, and cracks were beginning to form. I was a tad surprised it had not collapsed completely, but I'm not at all one to look a gift horse in the mouth. I stood up quickly and tried to ignore the warm trail of blood trickling down my back from the teen's arm wound. It was unnerving, but I had better things to worry about.

"Murdoc, what in jeezus's name are you_ doing_!?" Russel asked.

I gave him a hard glare. "Did ya think I was just gonna-"

**CRASHHH!**

The window broke sending glittering shards of glass tumbling through the air like like little stabby snowflakes. I ducked them and quickly jumped over the obese body of the zombie Norm (which, I might add, was probably a world record for long jump. He was faaaatt...) and sprinted in the direction of the back room. Noodle and Russel were at my heels and picking off some of the rushing zombies. As we burst out the door I saw waves upon waves of the undead filling the blood-soaked shop. Noodle opened the door with a powerful high-kick, and me and Russ ran into the tiny room. Russel used his bulking frame to barricade the door.

I looked around the storage room and noticed a nice little KORG keyboard and the half-eaten remains of a hispanic woman. Thumping and scratching came from the door, highlighting the desperate attempts the zombies were making to get at the kid. Why was he so important to them?

"Okai, let's go now!" Noodle said, her voice wavering a bit.

Noodle wrenched open the back door and ran out, followed by Russel. Without Russel's frame to block them, I was suddenly face-to-face with an angry horde of zombies that were pushing their way into the small room. I felt about forty pairs of shriveled up eyes size me up. Nobody moved. With my eyes locked on previously-deceased, I slowly bent down and scooped up the keyboard and stepped over the rotting corpse.

The zombies' eyes lazily trailed my every move. With keyboard in hand, I backed slowly out of the shop. The zombies slowly advanced, twitching and groaning on occasion. Having enough of seeing their teeth clack together in morbid anticipation, I quickly turned tail and sprinted to the Geep, which was a tad difficult with a stick-man over your shoulder and a keyboard tucked under your arm. I must have looked ridiculous.

I stumbled a bit on the way, but managed to get to the Geep in one (or rather two, counting Zombie Boy) piece. Russel was sitting in the driver's seat revving the engine and Noodle was strapped into the passanger seat like a delicate vase. I mentally cursed Russle for stealing my seat, but got over it quickly in favor of not being eaten alive by zombies. I carefully dumped Zombie Boy into the seat next to me, and the keyboard on the floor.

"Go Go GO!" I yelled at Russel, and we peeled out of the lot.

Normally I would have driven, but I had more important things on my mind. Zombie boy had stopped trembling, and it was a serious concern of mine that he might have died. I pulled him protectively into my lap, attempting to provide a bit of shelter from the wind whipping furiously at the Geep. I could now hear short, raspy breathing, but that instilled equal amounts of worry and relief. He was alive, but not doing well.

"Damn' it!" Russel shouted and the Geep jostled around.

"What's going on!" I demanded.

"The zombies! They followin' us! Just ran over one, too!" He answered, sounding a bit stressed.

He had every reason to be stressed! The zombies usually mad a point of avoiding such a noisy vehicle as the Geep, but now, as I glanced back, I could see them shuffling towards us.

"WOT THE HELL?!"

"Russel please hurry! This is very bad! We need to get back to Kong!" Noodle said urgently.

Russel nodded and slammed his gigantic steak of a foot down on the accelerator, the Geep jolting forward as he did so. At the same time, Zombie Boy (at lack for a proper name) fell off my lap and into the foot-space in an ungraceful tangle of limbs. He looked like one of those puzzles with the nail and the twisty metal bit and the string, you know.. those impossible puzzle things? Never mind.

As soon as I managed to get Zombie Boy untangled and back on the seat, the sky darkened to the most ominous shade of black I have ever seen. It seemed the sky had filled with ash from an unseen volcano, or someone stuffed a whole pallet of charcoal pencils into a paper shredder.

"FOR THE LOVE OF SATAN STEP ON IT YOU FAT SACK OF LARD!" I yelled desperately at Russel.

Any other time, I swear to Satan he would have hit me, but he was just as freaked out as I was. We were all freaked out, even Noodle, the trademark calm one. The dark clouds dipped lower than any regular cloud should have. It was only about a foot above my head, and I could hear it hissing awful things that I could scarcely make out. Words like death, suffering and hell. The clouds got lower and the air we breathed in nearly stung, it tasted so foul.

"Russel the Black Clouds are going to get us!" Noodle cried.

"I can see Kong, baby girl! We're gon' be alright!" Russel said excitedly.

He spoke the truth, Kong was rapidly approaching. From the Geep I could see a hoard of _at least_ a thousand zombies, all of them standing there, waiting. How did they know where we would be? They had never found our hideout before!

I glanced down at Zombie Boy and nearly laid an egg. His eyes were open! He stared almost dreamily at the clouds before his damaged eyes flickered shut again, but not before I could gawk at him like an autistic seagull. I was jarred out of my fascination when the Geep burst through the first layer of the undead. Body parts, organs and blood was flying everywhere, bits occasionally landing near me. Russel plowed on, and I could hear the rotted bones of the zombies crack under the weight of the Geep (not to mention Russel), and the disgusting squelch of flesh and brain matter splatting on the boot and windscreen.

"Okay brace yo'selves! We goin' through the gate!" Russel warned.

Noodle tightened her seat belt, Russel gripped the steering wheel with his massive hands, and I braced both myself and Zombie Boy against the drivers seat.

**SMAASHHHHHH BANG BOOM CRASSSHHHH! **

We flew through the gates of Kong, successfully obliterating them in the process. The Geep (being the incredibly inconvenient vehicle it was) skidded to a big fat hairy halt and one of the tires popped off, causing me and Zombie Boy to topple over in the seat. The moment the Geep stopped trying to kill itself, I straightened myself and the bluenette up. There was a pregnant silence, and Russel was the first to say anything.

"Why aint' they comin' in?" He asked, referring to the zombies and Kong.

I looked at the ruined gate a few feet behind us. All of the rotting corpses stayed at least five feet away from the gates, creating order I had never before seen in the undead.

"Maybe... maybe they cannot?" Noodle proposed.

As if to answer her question, a particularly nasty zombie with a missing arm (who had obviously lost all bowel control) staggered up to the gates of Kong. It slowly dragged itself past the mangled peices of twisted metal and stood stock still. We all (aside from Zombie Boy) watched it with morbid curiosity. It swayed left, sidestepped right then toppled over in a heap of rotted flesh. The rest of the undead hoard stared at it with withered eyes, then slowly started to shuffle away, as if uninterested in us suddenly.

An ominous hissing sound brought my attention to the dented hood of the Geep. There was something spitting out of it, and that unnerved me a bit.

"I don't know about yew lot, " I began casually. "But I'm not gonna wait around to find out what that moight' be."

At that I dragged myself and the featherweight Zombie Boy out of the broken Geep. Noodle and Russel soon followed, clambering out of the vehicle carefully as not to break it further. We slowly walked back to the huge mansion that was Kong. Once we were about forty feet away from it, one of the front tires decided to pop off and send the Geep into a crashing heap of twisted metal and green paint. I ignored it. It had been a long day, and we were all completely knackered.

Noodle wearily glanced at the teenager slung casually over my shoulder before wiping her forehead with the back of her hand.

"Ya know what we need right now?" Russel asked us.

"What." Was my tiered reply.

"Chicken wings."

* * *

**Aaaaannnnddddd there's chapter two! Thanks to Gorillaz_Latin_Fan for reading reviewing and favoriteing my stories, your support means so much to me! LOVE YOU! And thanks GorillazObsessor, you are just awesome in general. And a shout-out to PixelBoy, LEAVE A REVIEW MAYBE?! Gawd. Anyway, has anybody else noticed that the Geep's steering is north american styled? Weird. **

**I NEED 7 REVIEWS TO CONTINUE, OR ONE PIECE OF AWESOME FAN ART IF THAT'S NOT TOO MUCH TO ASK!**

**Next chapter includes 2D's new accommodations and him waking up and FINALLY talking. :D**

**Also, I would like to thank Mentalcase50 for being the first person to ever make me a shrimp gumbo!**

**-Azure the Zombie**


	3. That's No Way

It's a funny sort of feeling when you first wake up.

At first you have no idea where you are or how you got there, but eventually your vision clears and you let your guard down. I mean, why not? You're with people who know you, love you, and want to protect you. Think about how it feels to know that you're safe in the arms of your family.

Really think about it.

I wish you could have told me what it's like, because I didn't remember.

I... I knew what a family _is_, and that everybody has one... but any memories of the people I used to know were fleeting and wispy. A scolding from an old lady here and some kids tugging at my hair there, but even those little images were floating away.

Every thought draws a lovely little blank.

To be honest, I felt more like a newborn. I woke up screaming, in a place I'd never seen before, my whole body feeling numb and heavy, covered with a blanket and SO hungry. I felt like I hadn't eaten in days, and judging by how thin my body was, it likely the case. I wondered where I was..

C'mon eyes... focus!

Everything was blurry, like I was looking through the smudged lens of an eyeglass. I blinked a few times and held back a gag when I felt a thin layer of _something_ crumple under my eyelids and become lodged in my bottom eyelashes. Wrenching my arm free from it's blanketed confines, I attempt to rub it off, but only succeeded in smearing it under my eyes. I hoped to god it wasn't eyeliner, I would have never lived that down.

I shrugged the ugly yellow blanket off my shoulders and wondered where it had come from. Had someone put it on me? Of course someone did... but who would care enough to do such a thing? Although I hadn't the slightest recollection of my parents, I'm quite sure they had been eaten alive by a horde of the undead, same with my nan. If not them, then who?

That thought frightened me a bit.

I shot to my feet like a rocket, ignoring the unusual stiffness in my joints. Was someone watching me? I mean... Someone had brought me here and put a blanket on me, someone had picked me up and carried me to this room, someone had bandaged up my my arm... Why was there even bandages there? The dark blood that's seeping through the gauze keep me from looking. If I was bleeding like that, I didn't even _want_ to know how bad the wound was.

The last place I remembered being was the emporium. Then shots... and pain.. and darkness..

"Ello...? ELLO?"

No answer.

I felt tears collect in the corners of my eyes and choked back a sniffle. Was I.. all alone?

"Anyone..."

I tried to take a step forward, but ended up tripping over my own feet. Even though there was no one with me to laugh at my clumsiness, I still felt pretty embarrassed. Picking myself up off of the floor, I wrapped my arms around my torso. I wasn't _cold_, just.. I'm not even sure how to describe it. _I_ wasn't cold, but my body felt... dead. Does that make sense? Forget it..

I finally took the time to have a little look at the room I was in. It was entirely comprised of metal, although there were some parts in the walls that looked like they had been patched up with tinfoil. The floor was also metal, it's dull grey surface covered in scratches and stains. There were a whole lot of boxes, too. I saw one that had been labelled 'Edible Panties' in a black indelible maker. Ew..

A small movement near the corner of the ceiling caught my foggy eyes. I spun on my heel and looked up at... A.. camera? A little red light in the corner of the machine blinked at me.

Blink.

Blink..

Blink...

I stared at the camera, wondering who could possibly be on the other end of it. I must have been standing stock-still for quite a while, just staring at the camera as it blinked at me. I took a shaky step towards it, noting how it oscillated to keep me in it's view. If I squinted (which you better believe I did) I could see my reflection. The lens must have been dirty, because I could have _sworn_ my eyes looked darker.

In an attempt to get a better look at the camera, I took a few steps forward. Being a clumsy dullard, I had failed to notice the sodding tin of spam lying innocently on the ground in front of me. I stepped on the can and it (along with my foot) slipped forward and sent me crashing to the ground with a dull thud. I lied there for a moment, gasping like a fish.

"Ah... Oww..."

_'That's it!'_ I thought. _'I'm getting out of here before I make myself look even more stupid!'_

With renewed vigor, I hopped to my feet and practically ran to the door. I banged on the bloody thing with both fists, but only managed to make my fingers hurt. Lovely.

_'Right,'_ I thought. _'Need to find another way out.'_

I turned around and examined the rest of the metal room, carefully eyeing any unwanted meat tins. I looked to the ceiling first. There was a vent in one of the far corners, but it was _way_ too high for me to reach. I guess I could have piled some boxes up to reach, but nothing in there looked sturdy enough to hold a rat, much less _my _weight. Next up was the walls. There weren't any noticeable holes or windows... Hmm...

_*Click*_

I froze and became aware of a presence behind me. I mean, that awful smell _had_ to have come from _somewhere_. Great, the first person I come in contact with and the smell like arse and landfill debris. A cold bit of metal was pressed against my skull.

"Put yer hands up, dun' try anything funny." A deep, gruff voice rumbled.

What was I to do? Ignoring the dull ache in my limbs, I brought my arms above my head.

"Lovely, yew can understand me." He said, sounding more condescending than relieved. Jerk.

"Why wouldn' I be able ta'-" I was cut off when he whacked me (none too lightly) on the back of the head with whatever metal thing he had. My hands flew to soothe the now-aching spot and I hissed in slight pain. It stung, but wasn't really bleeding or anything. Mega-Jerk.

"Oww..." I muttered. "Wha' wuzzat for?"

The man seemed to be at a loss.

"Err... because... Shaddup!" He said and whacked me again.

As you can imagine, I was getting a bit annoyed at this point. Just who did this guy think he was, going 'round hitting people with metal things!? The nerve! Ignoring the continuous threat of the bit of metal pressed against my head, I turned around to give this guy a piece of my mind.

"Wha's ta big idea-" I stopped mid-sentence.

The man that was now standing in front of me was holding a gun. Said gun was trained directly at my face.

Shite, he looked sort of terrorizing..


End file.
